


Messy

by BlushLouise



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Ambulon's all here for that, Don't Like Don't Read, First Aid is a total power bottom, Kink Fic, M/M, Piss kink, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Urination, Watersports, alien version, no privacy in a gestalt, waste fluid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:08:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24611278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlushLouise/pseuds/BlushLouise
Summary: Ambulon enjoys being on the Lost Light. Most of all, he enjoys First Aid. Thoroughly, repeatedly, and with great enthusiasm.
Relationships: Ambulon/First Aid (Transformers)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 51





	Messy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lintu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lintu/gifts).



For all that the Lost Light tended to end up in trouble at times – a lot of the time, really – medbay was actually quiet more often than not. Trouble tended to happen in waves, often corresponding with whenever Swerve had restocked or Brainstorm had finished something experimental or Rodimus had had another Brilliant Idea™, and in between all that medbay was just… quiet. Peaceful.

Ambulon liked it.

There was also the added bonus of there actually being enough medics, for once in his existence. At least enough for the in-between moments. They only really had to rush when there was trouble, and there were enough mecha with medical competence that they didn’t have to pull solo shifts all the time.

Ambulon shot a quick glance to where First Aid was going through medical files.

The best part about the Lost Light was that he and First Aid were both there. And First Aid had flourished since Delphi. He was a lot more relaxed now that Pharma wasn’t looking over his shoulder all the time. Pits, _Ambulon_ was more relaxed now they weren’t under Pharma’s rule anymore. Ratchet was a benevolent master by comparison.

Proof: how much First Aid felt he could bend the rules these days. Ambulon still wasn’t sure how they’d gotten away with using Ratchet’s office the way they had the week before, but so far no one had said anything.

It was good that First Aid was confident, because Ambulon was a bit more uncertain. Being a Decepticon for a while did that to you. He was learning that putting a foot out of line wouldn’t lead to immediate and painful deactivation, but it would take a while still to train himself back out of that mindset.

So it was good really that First Aid was around to give him a little push. Even though said pushes usually led to larger and often more public messes than expected.

He glanced up at First Aid again. Updating files was apparently not that interesting, because First Aid was fidgeting, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. There was a tension in him that Ambulon recognized.

Any minute now.

He kept his optics off First Aid, enjoying the suspense. Angled his frame slightly away, to give First Aid a better chance of sneaking up on him. Not that he needed it – for as heavy as his frame was, Aid could be remarkably stealthy.

Sure enough, it didn’t take long.

“Ambulon,” First Aid crooned, arms snaking their way around Ambulon’s waist. “Turn around?”

Like Ambulon would refuse that. Especially since turning around gave him an armful of smelter-hot, very affectionate First Aid, nuzzling Ambulon’s face and teasing his seams.

“Want you.” First Aid was already venting fast, heating up in Ambulon’s arms. He moved back, pulling Ambulon with him somehow with nothing more than the tips of his fingers buried in Ambulon’s seams. “Want you right now, Amb.”

Primus, no one had ever been able to rev him up as fast as First Aid could. Ambulon could feel his temperature climbing already.

First Aid somehow managed to slide up onto a medberth, legs spread to fit Ambulon between them. His panel was blazing against Ambulon’s front.

“Door’s wide open, Aid,” Ambulon murmured, lips tracing First Aid’s mask. “Anyone can walk in.”

The triple beep sounded from the door as if on cue, and First Aid sounded smug. “Not anymore they can’t.” His panel slid aside, moist folds rubbing lubricant over Ambulon’s bare spike housing. He hadn’t even realized his panel had retracted.

Slag, what First Aid was doing to him.

First Aid reached between them, fingers tracing Ambulon’s already half-online spike. Ambulon groaned as he was teased to full hardness, hips making small aborted jerks into First Aid’s hand. Soon enough that hand moved away to make room for First Aid’s valve, folds dripping as First Aid ground against Ambulon’s very ready spike.

“Frag, Aid, you’re teasing me,” Ambulon managed, fighting hard against the impulse to sink into First Aid completely. The feel of that hot wet valve rubbing against his spike was heavenly, but he wanted _more_.

“You want all of it?” First Aid gasped, already halfway to overload by the looks of it.

“In here? It’ll be messy.” Ambulon felt like he had to make at least a token protest, considering this was _medbay,_ but he couldn’t deny that the thought of it made his backstrut tingle and his spike twitch.

“’s what cleaning droids are for.” First Aid’s anterior node dragged over the ridges of Ambulon’s spike, making both of them shiver. “C’mon, you want all of it?”

“Frag,” Ambulon cursed, wanting so badly that it almost hurt. “Frag, yes, of course I want all of it, come on. I don’t know why you even bother asking.”

“Just had to make sure,” Aid sang in a teasing voice, as if he’d ever had any plans of stopping at this point. “Consent is important.”

“Lesson learned.” Ambulon grinned, nipping at First Aid’s jaw line. “Now give it to me.”

He barely had time to brace for the sensation before hot, slick fluid flowed over his spike. Hot droplets spattered onto his pelvic plating, rivulets streaming down his legs, and in his arms First Aid _mewled_ as the fluid left him, one finger rubbing eager circles on his anterior node.

“Frag, Aid, you’re so hot!” Ambulon couldn’t even vent properly at this point. “Let me?”

First Aid nodded, almost beyond words at this point. He shifted on the berth, leaning back on his elbows, legs spreading even more as he held back the flow a bit until Ambulon was ready.

Ambulon took an extra moment to appreciate the view before him. First Aid’s valve glistened wetly of lubricant and waste fluid, node blinking fitfully in a plea for attention and the valve opening itself already twitching. He looked good enough to eat.

So Ambulon knelt, and put his mouth where they both wanted it most.

There was a bitterness to the taste, only increasing as Ambulon dragged his glossa from posterior node to anterior node. First Aid whimpered, legs clenching around Ambulon’s head, keeping him in place as he pushed in and suckled on that anterior node.

It didn’t take much for First Aid to shatter.

His legs tensed around Ambulon’s head, valve clenching down on nothing, The flow of waste fluid increased to a rush against Ambulon’s face. He burrowed into it, glossa pushing against the small waste fluid opening, and above him First Aid overloaded again.

Slowly, the flow tapered off. First Aid all but melted around him. His legs relaxed, flopping aside to let Ambulon move again.

“That looked good,” Ambulon commented, affecting a nonchalance he didn’t feel as he stood up and leaned over First Aid’s frame. “You look amazing, sweet.” He nuzzled First Aid’s mask. “Want a taste?”

The mask slid aside so fast it almost burned against Ambulon’s nose. He ran a finger through First Aid’s wet folds and pressed it against First Aid’s intake. “Open up.”

The feeling of that intake spiralling around his finger was one of the hottest things Ambulon knew. His spike was so hard it hurt.

First Aid pushed at him, and Ambulon moved back to let him sit up. He didn’t remove his finger from First Aid’s intake until he had to, supporting First Aid’s hips as he shifted to rub his node over Ambulon’s spike again. “Primus, Aid, I want you.”

“Please,” First Aid sighed happily, lifting his hips a bit. “I need you in me.”

The ping at the door startled them both. First Aid’s mask snapped shut as he slid off the berth. “He better have broken something to come here now.”

Ambulon stared at him. “Are you seriously going to open the door?”

“It’s just Blades,” First Aid said, not even bothering to close his panel as he walked away. “It’ll only take a moment. Don’t move.”

“But,” Ambulon had time to say, and then the door slid open and there was Blades, optics brightening as he looked them both over.

“Yes?” First Aid said in a saccharine voice, and Ambulon tried to forget that his spike was on full display and he still had First Aid’s waste fluid all over his face and dripping down his frame.

Blades’ voice was a slow drawl. “I see I… interrupted something?” He sounded amused, the slagger.

“Yes, you did,” First Aid said tartly. “So unless you’re in danger of leaking out, I suggest you come back tomorrow.”

“I just came by to invite you to movie night,” Blades replied, still looking far more entertained than he had the right to. “But I can tell you’re having enough fun where you are. Tell us when you’re free though, yeah? We miss you.”

“I will.” First Aid’s hand hovered over the door panel. “Now get.”

“Yeah, yeah. Night, Aid.” He nodded at Ambulon, optics tracking the fluid dripping down his frame. “Ambulon.”

The door slid shut.

“Well, that was embarrassing,” Ambulon commented. His spike was trying valiantly to shrink back into its housing.

First Aid waved a hand. “Aw, don’t worry about it. The number of times one of them has walked in on me, this is nothing new. For that matter, the number of times one of them has joined in… Blades doesn’t know you well enough to ask, but I could tell he wanted to. He’s probably on his way to pounce Hot Spot as we speak.”

That was… kind of hot, actually.

“Oh, you like that?” First Aid purred, stepping into Ambulon’s space and stroking his hardening spike. “Imagining them together? Or imagining him joining us?”

“Frag, Aid,” Ambulon gasped, chasing that hand, “you’re killing me here.”

“Frag sounds about right,” First Aid mused, the light touch not quite enough to do anything but tease. “I don’t feel like sharing you yet, though. Not today. But if you want to invite some of them to play another time, just say the word.”

Ambulon couldn’t think clearly with Aid’s hand on his spike like that. Slag, he was close to not even being able to stand up. “More, please, Aid, c’mon –“

“More?” First Aid giggled. “Not here, I think. I want you all to myself tonight.” He turned around, and Ambulon caught the tail end of a command sent to the cleaning droids. “Come on. We’re going back to yours.”

“Mine?” Ambulon said stupidly, missing the touch on his spike fiercely. He was tempted to take himself in hand, just to get some relief, but the sight of that red aft walking away was too much to resist. Ambulon followed like First Aid had a chain bolted to his chassis. “Why not yours?”

First Aid laughed again. “Because mine has Protectobots fragging in it. Guess I shouldn’t have given Hot Spot that key code. You ready?”

Ambulon stared down at his very much online spike, and the traces of waste fluid on his frame. “Um.”

“Nobody’s there,” Aid crooned. “Rodimus issued some form of drinking challenge, they’re all at Swerve’s.” He looked back over his shoulder, aft on tempting display. “Want to go have fun in your berth? I’ll strip the blankets and wash them afterward?”

Well, when put like that.

Ambulon still tried to will his spike back down to a more concealable size as they walked through the hallways of the Lost Light. He stayed behind First Aid, trying to be small and out of sight of the cameras monitoring the hallways. It didn’t really work, but hopefully whoever was manning the cameras was too busy watching the feed from Swerve’s.

He was grateful when they reached his hab without actually running into anyone. Even more grateful when First Aid grabbed him by the hips as soon as they were inside, spinning him around and pressing him against the wall. “I want to sit on your face again.”

That sounded very good to Ambulon. “You engage your high-speed filtration system, sweet?”

“Of course I did.” Aid sounded smug. “Figured you’d want it.”

“As much as you do, I bet,” Ambulon agreed. “Primus, Aid, you’re hot.” He pushed away from the wall and backed up until he could lie down on the berth, leaving room for First Aid to climb on top of him.

First Aid was less than graceful as he clambered onto the narrow berth, though, legs slipping off the side and almost faceplanting him on Ambulon’s thigh. Ambulon did his best not to snicker.

“Oh, shut up,” First Aid chided, laughter in his tone. “If you’d requisition a bigger berth, this wouldn’t be a problem.”

“If you’d kick the Protectobots out of your quarters, we could have used your big berth,” Ambulon countered. “Now come on over here and shut me up.”

“Absolutely.” First Aid settled with his legs on either side of Ambulon’s head and his valve in perfect tasting distance.

Ambulon put his hands back on First Aid’s hips and pulled him down onto his mouth.

“Ah – frag, Amb – yes!” First Aid was practically keening, anterior node hot and pulsing in Ambulon’s mouth. “Yes, there, please, Amb c’mon, c’mon, more pleasepleaseplease-“ First Aid kept up an endless stream of praise and begging, and Ambulon would never admit how hot he found it. First Aid probably knew anyway.

Hot as it was, though, Ambulon wanted more. ::Give it to me.::

“Yesss,” First Aid hissed, and then the hot, bitter fluid flowed over Ambulon’s face again, over his glossa and pooling in his mouth, dripping down to collect in the gaps in his plating until there was sticky warmth everywhere.

Ambulon relished in it.

He let Aid’s noises guide him, suckling at valve folds and teasing his anterior node, glossa pushing into Aid’s valve as the flow of waste fluid tapered off. First Aid was trembling around him, voice rising in a keen, and Ambulon doubled his efforts. First Aid overloading was a thing of beauty, even from this vantage point.

He thrust his glossa into First Aid’s valve just in time to feel the walls contracting. First Aid howled his completion, grinding down on Ambulon’s face before collapsing over him in a heap.

Ambulon swallowed the fluid still in his mouth before hefting First Aid up by the hip and tugging him down. “Come on, sweet. Don’t crush my head.”

“Fond of that head,” First Aid slurred, but he settled in along Ambulon’s side and purred contentedly. “Still want yours.”

“You’d better.” Ambulon pressed a sticky kiss to the top of First Aid’s helm. “Or I might have to find myself another Protectobot to help out.”

“Tease.” First Aid slapped his front lightly. “Give me a few minutes so I won’t overheat instantly.” But his hand did drift down across Ambulon’s abdomen, finding the tacky wetness left over from their adventures in medbay earlier. “I want to ride you. I want your fluid in me.”

Ambulon couldn’t stop himself from groaning. His spike had pressurized again after their walk and was more than ready for whatever First Aid wanted. And Aid wanted him to wait?

Frag that. Ambulon could tease too, if he wanted to. He could tease with the best of them.

And First Aid’s seams were so very close to his fingers.

“I want that too.” He made his voice as sultry as he possibly could. “I want to watch you as I fill you up. Watch my waste fluid push out of you, dripping back down my spike to soak the blankets underneath me. I want to mark your plating, let it flow into your seams until it’s good and stuck and you’ll be sticky for days.” His fingers traced the gaps in Aid’s plating, light and teasing. “Do you want that? To feel so full that it seems like it’s bursting out of you, that hot pressure on your ceiling node? Maybe I’ll pull out partway, mark you proper?”

First Aid moaned, visor bright. “My intake.”

“Your intake,” Ambulon agreed. “I want to see my fluids covering the rings, dripping down your face. I want to _smell it_ on you.”

That got a growl out of First Aid, and Ambulon suddenly found himself pinned, First Aid’s hands on his wrists and his legs on either side of his pelvis. “ _Give it to me.”_

“Ride me, and I will,” Ambulon gasped, hips lifting of their own accord to find First Aid’s very ready valve. “I’ll give you everything you want.”

The relief as First Aid finally sank down on him was exquisite.

Ambulon thrust up into the warmth and heat, moaning at the way First Aid’s valve clung to his spike. Part of him wanted to just turn them around and frag First Aid into oblivion, but they could do that another time. He wouldn’t waste this chance to play properly.

Heh. Waste.

“You ready?” he managed, jaw clenching in an effort to stave off overload just that little bit longer.

“Always ready for you.” First Aid rotated his hips, valve clenching. “Now give it to me.”

Ambulon did.

The feeling of waste fluid leaving his online spike was always amazing, especially when he was hilt-deep in First Aid. It was like his spike nodes registered pleasure from both the inside and the outside. The heat filled up around him, putting hot pressure on First Aid’s nodes as well, and he could tell the moment the flow hit Aid’s ceiling node directly, because it catapulted him directly into overload. His valve pulsed and tightened so hard around Ambulon’s spike that it was almost agony. Almost, but not quite.

And still First Aid was insatiable. He rode Ambulon with abandon, leaning forward to grind his node against Ambulon’s spike housing. Steaming waste fluid flowed out to pool on Ambulon’s pelvis plating.

It was hot as Pit.

First Aid lifted himself up slightly, and Ambulon held his flow and triggered the high-speed filtration system. He knew what First Aid would want next.

“Primus, Amb.” First Aid pulled himself off Ambulon’s still very ready spike and settled between his legs. “You’re so good at this.”

Ambulon grinned at the praise. “Well, you’re keeping me practicing.” Inside, he could feel the pressure in his waste fluid tank building rapidly as the filtration system did its job. “You want all of it?”

“You know I do.”

Ambulon waited until First Aid was ready, kneeling expectantly between his thighs. Then he aimed his spike at First Aid’s abdomen and let loose.

The flow was strong, spattering over First Aid’s plating and dripping down on their legs. First Aid’s hand was between his legs, and Ambulon knew he was working his own node feverishly. He aimed the flow higher, over First Aid’s pectoral vents and up his central seam. First Aid raised his chin, and Ambulon let the hot fluid hit his throat cables.

Then First Aid looked down at him, and Ambulon aimed the waste fluid flow at his intake.

Somehow, this was the best part of all. Seeing First Aid like that, intense gaze locked on Ambulon, Ambulon’s waste fluid covering his face and frame and coating the inside of his intake. Ambulon could overload just from the sight of it. Had, too, in the past.

“Close, Aid,” he managed. Unlike First Aid, who could go and go and go, Ambulon would be done at this one overload. Especially with as much as First Aid had teased him. “Close, c’mon, please let me, please…”

First Aid crooned as the flow finally tapered off. “Don’t worry, Amb. I’ve got you.” He leaned down over Ambulon’s frame, nuzzling his way up. It took a moment for Ambulon to realize he was following the wastefluid trail’s he’d left earlier. “Want in me?”

“Please,” Ambulon gasped. “Please, yes, Aid, c’mon –“

“Shh.” First Aid sank down onto his spike again. “I’ve got you.”

It only took three thrust before the overload hit. Ambulon howled, hands tightening on First Aid’s hips, holding him down as he pushed up into him, powerful waves of pleasure taking over his frame.

He was still keening as he fell offline.

When he woke up, he was moderately clean. He was still lying in a sticky spot, and the room reeked of waste fluids and overloads.

The best kind of waking up, really.

First Aid was next to him, a damp cleaning cloth in his hand. His mask was back on, his visor dim, and Ambulon wanted nothing more than to pull him down next to him.

So he did.

First Aid made a sound that could only be described as a squawk. “I promised you clean sheets.”

“Yeah, you did.” Ambulon held him tighter. “But you didn’t say they had to be clean right away.”

“You’re such a snuggle-bunny.” First Aid giggled as he settled against Ambulon’s side, one arm stroking his chest seam. “But okay. Cuddle time first.”

“I don’t even know what snuggle-bunny means.” Ambulon kissed the top of First Aid’s helm. “But it sounds accurate.”

“Mmm. It is.” First Aid dimmed the lights. “Recharge like this? Or do you want to hit the ‘racks first?”

Ambulon checked his chrono. It was late, late enough that most mecha were either in recharge or heading there. Washing up properly now would be a good idea.

On the other hand, First Aid snuggles.

First Aid snuggles always won.

“We can wash up properly tomorrow,” he decided, turning the lights all the way off. “Recharge now.”

“Okay.” First Aid was almost purring as he hooked them up to recharge cables. “Recharge now. Night, Amb.”

“Night, Aid.”

Ambulon watched First Aid until his visor had dimmed completely. Then he pressed another kiss to First Aid’s forehead. “Love you,” he whispered, quietly enough that First Aid wouldn’t have heard it even if he had been awake.

Waking up tomorrow would be sticky and uncomfortable. But it was worth it.

It was always worth it.


End file.
